What's going on here?
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What's Going On Here?
The princess met a frog
She hoped to make him a prince
So she kissed him smack on lips
And then began to wince
For instead of he being handsome
SHE turned into a frog
Now they both were unhappy
He had hoped for a dog
Froggie went a' courtin' .
She, her feelings were a' sortin'.
Frowns were upon their faces that day.
Too many bugs the night before, I'd say.
The bench where they were sitting was as hard as stone.
She wanted to get up and let out a moan.
Stiff as statues they sat without a sound.
To courtin' they were duty bound.
Mom and Dad Frog had set the pace.
They had to propagate their froggie race.
Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@msn.com)
All Choked Up
Polly was a puny polywog
Who paddled in a pond.
Joey, a gentle giant bullfrog,
Of Polly was quite fond.
“Joe, I’m afraid this will never do,”
Said Sammy, the grass snake,
“She sure is awfully young for you -
A tadpole, for gosh sake.”
Joey replied in his famous croak,
“That’s how it looks to you,
But our affair is not a joke.
My love for her is true.”
Sammy softly sighed, “It sure is sad
When a full grown bull frog
Plans to share a little lily pad
With a wee polywog.”
Not long after this, the two were wed -
Among polywog maids it was said
Polly was elated.
So, to their honeymoon pad they moved -
Polly loved the lily.
At first, love sick Joey, too, approved,
But soon he felt silly.
He was used to sleeping on a log,
Breathing air, catching flies,
But Polly, not yet a full-grown frog,
Made Joey realize
That ever since the day he’d brought her
To live up on that pad,
Polly was a fish out of water,
And that made him feel bad.
She would flip and flop and toss and sigh
And gasp the whole night through.
By morning Polly was stiff and dry -
Her lips were turning blue.
So, before retiring each night,
Joe filled his mouth with pond.
Polly would jump right in with delight,
Of Joe's wet tongue, so fond.
Many weeks flew by, and love prevailed.
They both cherished each day.
Shortly though, Polly became less tailed -
Short legs she did display.
Joe sometimes came awake late at night,
When his tongue felt a kick.
He’d smile and whisper, “That’s quite all right,
My woggie’s growing quick.”
Then surprise! On one glorious morn,
Rising to croak a note
That Joe had saved for just such a dawn -
Glug! A frog in his throat.
Hey Froggie! You look like you’re going courting.
Especially with that tuxedo you’re sporting.
You have been dating all kinds of aquatic life
Because you are looking for a fancy wife.
In your Escalade you will ride in style
With a six pack of dead flies for every mile.
Blowing your horn and whistling at guppies.
But they treat you like a pile of dead puppies.
Even the Moray eels won’t give you a date.
Isn’t that a big old clue as to your fate?
Froggie, Froggie….Time for you to get a life.
You’ll be too old to catch you a wife.
Two months later, here comes Froggie Boy.
Smiling and strutting, he’s so full of joy.
Said, “ I did me some thinking and got me a widow.”
“She thinks I am just perfect, meet Marie Minnow.”